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mothtoaflamee · 1 month

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Alastor x Parental!reader GN (platonic)

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

You had been staying at the hotel for about a month now, getting acquainted with the other tenants and hotel staff, a few in particular catching your eye.

Charlie was one of the first to greet you upon your arrival. Cheery and optimistic compared to the woman next to her, who Charlie introduced as Vaggie. With an attempt to have you both shake hands in greeting, you were met with a spear pointed at you, which if you count that as a warm welcome, is exactly what you received. Charlie had to assure Vaggie that you didn't pose a threat. You didn't think much of it afterward. The next person to greet you was what you first assumed to be a child but was in fact not; her name was Nifty, who sort of introduced herself, excitedly running around you, quickly leaving before you even had the chance to respond to her endless questions. Husker and Angel were the next two people Charlie introduced to you too. They were chatting at the bar, with Husker looking annoyed and giving you a wave before cleaning a glass. Angel didn't seem too interested in talking to you, but he did try. And finally, Alastor appeared, introducing himself loudly as the hotelier. His personality and overall stature interested you, so you two ended up talking for a very long time.

Which now leads you to the present time. You were known to be parental around the hotel, not in an annoying, nagging way. Though it may seem like it, you only had the best intentions when it came to your protective nature towards others. Even though all of them were older than you and died before you, you still felt protective over everyone.

Despite everything, you weren't pushed away for this; it was welcomed, giving off a found-family vibe. It was early in the morning, and you smelled a pleasant smell of food downstairs, which woke you up. Yawing, you got up and out of bed, stretching before changing into your day clothes before heading out the door and going downstairs.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0Yj7WP1MbAqQVQA5Na4I7E?si=6-ipc1ipSiK2l94K1rbaWQ

As you walked to the kitchen you could hear the pleasant soft sound of old jazz, knowing it must mean Alastor was the one cooking something, he was the only one known to do this, it was common for him to wake up (assuming he even slept in the first place, you’ve never seen him sleep) to make breakfast. Finally making it to the kitchen, you found Alastor making what looked to be beignets, grits, with red beans and rice. Then you looked over to where the kitchen table was where a cup of coffee with chicory sat. You stood there for a moment taking in the scene before you. Alastor hummed to the tune of the old jazz, his movements fluid and graceful as he stirred the red beans and rice. A small fire danced in the pan as he added a bit of spice to the mix, the scent of cinnamon and sugar wafting through the air as he flipped the beignets. He looked over his shoulder at you, a wide grin on his face as he continued to cook.

"Ah! Hello, Mon cher. I see you've come to join me for some breakfast. I must say, the jazz is quite fitting, wouldn't you agree? It's a shame we can't have a dance to it, but I suppose we'll have to make do with the cooking."

He flipped the beignet once more, using his demonic magic to create a small, harmless flame to caramelize the sugar on top. He then plated the food, setting it on the table with a flourish before pouring you a cup of coffee as well, something he’d commonly do when he was alive for his mother, in a way being around you gave him a tiny sense of nostalgia. The human part of him.

"Please, have a seat. I'm sure you're famished, and I would hate for our guest to leave hungry."

You nodded, walking over to the seat he pointed towards. Sitting down and watching him as he cooked, humming along with the jazz tunes, you wondered what he was thinking about behind his signature smile. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was the hardest to read, and surprisingly, the most protective you felt over him, a compelling feeling to protect him despite knowing he was much, much more powerful than you’d ever be.

“Thanks Al, I appreciate it, I smelt the food and just had to go down, it looks delicious by the way.”

You complimented him, you did mean it, the smell was homey and sweet like sugar. Alastor grinned, a satisfied look on his face as he took his own seat across from you. He picked up his spoon, dipping it into the grits bringing it to his lips. A small, contented hum escaped him as he chewed, his eyes closing for a moment before he opened them again.

"Oh, I'm glad to hear it. I've always enjoyed cooking. It's a way for me to unwind, to put my mind at ease. Though, it's always better when I have company to share it with."

He took a sip of his coffee, the chicory adding a bittersweet taste to the brew. He leaned back in his chair, his grin never faltering as he looked at you.

"So, how are you finding your new home? I must say, I'm quite proud of Charlie for starting this hotel. I've always enjoyed a bit of chaos, but it's nice to see some order to it all."

You hummed, taking a sip of the bitter-sweet coffee, it wasn’t too hot nor too cold, the perfect blend, you thought about your time at the hotel, it was nice, not sure if redemption was possible but still willing to try if it made Charlie happy, growing attached to everyone in the hotel especially Alastor in particular.

“It’s nice here, I care about you all dearly, though I may not believe in redemption I’m willing to stay around and try, plus you guys aren’t all that bad to be around.”

You nodded at Alastors statement, it was oddly quiet but calm today, even though it was probably only because it was early in the morning, everything felt calmer. Alastor chuckled, waving his hand as if to dismiss your words.

"Oh, pish-posh. You're too kind. But I must say, I'm glad to hear it."

You watched as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the silence other than the smooth jazz playing in the background. He took another sip of his coffee.

"Yes, it is rather quiet today. Perhaps the other residents are still asleep. I'm sure they'll be up soon enough, bringing their own brand of chaos to the hotel. It's always a delight to see."

His grin never faltered, but his voice held an underlying softness to it, as if Alastor truly cared for your well-being.

“Indeed it is, I wonder what Charlie has in store for us today, hopefully something fun, wouldn’t you agree?”

Perhaps hell wasn’t all that awful with a company as wonderful as the hotel residents, hoping for better days to come in the future, more experiences, and more memories.

(End)

(Sorry if there are some grammar mistakes in here, I haven’t written something like this is years though I’m happy to be back! Have a wonderful day <3) -strawberry

#alastor x reader #fluff #x parental reader #it’s been so long since I’ve written fan fiction forgive me please #alastor x gn!reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #alastor radio demon #it’s so sappy I can’t-#alastor fluff #x reader #Spotify

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amberlynnmurdock · 1 year

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Blind Faith

Chapter 1: My Savior

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: One college-drunken night, you didn't expect to be saved by the man in the mask. You didn't expect him to agree to walk you home, either. You especially didn't expect to enter into an affair with the masked vigilante. That's what happens when you follow faith blindly. You let yourself fall in love, with someone who won't even tell you who he is. On top of pining for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, you have to graduate NYU, take the LSAT, keep this secret, manage your social life and an internship at a law firm named Nelson & Murdock.

Warnings for this chapter: attempted assault, drug use, mentions of alcohol

New York City

Midnight

A grayish fog hovered over the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Shining lights were now dimmed as stores were just starting to close. Yes, it was midnight, and stores were still open. But this was New York City, and it just made sense. Although some businesses were ready to close up for the night, others were just opening. As the day crowd shuffled on home, the night crowd was heading out. They consisted of many different groups: from college students to socialites, to white-collar business people to criminals—all out for the very same reason: simply because it was New York City.

You fell under the college student category. This was your last semester at New York University and you weren’t going to waste any weekend—or weeknight, in this case—to go out drinking with your friends. You only ever regretted it at the very end of the night, when you were laying down in bed and the room was still spinning, or hugging a toilet bowl. For you, it wasn’t the end of the night; it was the beginning.

“Here we are,” your friend, Emily, announced. The auburn-haired girl scrambled in her leather purse for a pass for you and your friends to show the bouncer, who stood at probably six feet and wore a leather jacket. “Our promoter’s name is Cain,” she yelled at the bouncer over the music booming inside.

Without a smile, he checked her pass from Cain and nodded his head.

“IDs,” he demanded.

The four of you all pulled out your IDs. When you reached for your wallet from your purse, it was then you realized how buzzed you already felt. Your other friend, Bella, giggled next to you as she accidentally dropped her wallet on the ground. There was a difference between accidentally dropping something and drunkenly dropping something. You laughed with her and nudged your waist into hers.

After calmly showing the bouncer your IDs, the four of you gracefully entered the club, the muffled music from outside now blasting in your ears. Now that you were all 21 with graduation on the horizon, there wasn’t any worrying anymore about fake IDs. You could come and go to bars as you pleased.

“Let’s get some shots!” Emily shouted. You all walked in a single file but held onto each other’s hands as you navigated the sea of people dancing on the floor. Navigating the crowd didn’t come without being shoved, which is why you all held onto each other. You gripped Bella’s hand tightly as she followed behind you, making sure she wouldn’t get pulled away.

The music was so loud you could feel it reverberate in your heart. Good thing you decided to wear your black boots, too. If you had chosen to go with heels, your toes might’ve been stepped on in this crowd. You consciously pulled down your black mini skirt since it rose a bit from walking.

“Four shots of Casamigos, please!” You shouted at the woman bartender who leaned over to hear your order. She nodded in response and gave a thumbs up, immediately grabbing a bottle and lining up four shot glasses. You gave her your card to open a tab.

Your other friend, Hannah, squeezed your arms in excitement.

“Fuck finals!” She screamed. You laughed before taking your shot with the girls. After ordering another round of shots, the four of you began your night of dancing, drinking, and partying like you didn’t have to wake up early for any exam.

~~~

As the night went on, the drinks didn’t stop. Neither did the dancing nor the dodging of drunk men trying and failing to flirt with you and your friends. You and Emily went to the bathroom together to ensure the other was safe, even if one of you didn’t have to go. Bella and Hannah stayed put at the corner of the bar.

In the bathroom, girls lined up waiting for their turn in the stalls. You managed to squeeze by them to get to the mirrors because you didn’t have to go. Arriving at the mirror, you were pleasantly surprised with how well your makeup had held up. Your hair was messy from dancing but after flipping it twice, you styled it again. You adjusted your black top, too, pulling it up a bit.

The girl in the mirror next to you was bent over, so you couldn’t see her face. Just as you were about to lean over and ask if she was okay, she flipped her head up and took a big sniff. Ahh. You realized. She’s doin’ okay.

When Emily was done, the two of you exited the bathroom and reentered the club. You found your other friends and ordered one last round of shots before you called it a night. It was a successful night—you all managed to keep each other within a good distance, you danced, you turned down gross men and their attempts at flirting—now all that was left was to get back to your apartment building safely. Easy.

“Just one more song!” Hannah begged, and it didn’t take much convincing for the rest of you to agree. Your heart banged against your chest as you danced along to the last song of the night, definitely on a different level than you were at the start.

The only downside to going out was dressing for the weather at the beginning of the night, and not anticipating that it would drop a few degrees by the end of the night. Thankfully, being in a stuffy club with lots of other people and dancing made you work up a sweat and essentially get hot. When you walked out into the 50-degree weather, it felt like a comfortable 60 degrees. Still, the chill coated your bones immediately, and you started to dream of your bed. Your ears were ringing from the loud music, and you stumbled a bit walking.

The apartment building was only eight blocks from the club. The four of you linked arms and began your trek home, laughing and talking about the night you just had.

“That guy was so gross, Bella,” Hannah laughed, “I can’t believe he had the audacity to think just because he bought me a drink I’d go home with him. The fucking nerve some guys have.”

“Seriously,” you agreed, “not to mention when his phone lit up, ‘Boo-Boo’ had just texted him."

“Ugh, what is wrong with men?” Bella groaned.

And in the middle of your conversation, your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach upon realization. Your card.

“Oh, shit, guys,” you cursed, stopping in your tracks which caused your friends to stop as well. “I forgot to close my tab and get my card back!”

“Oh no,” Emily said, “can’t you get it tomorrow? Do you really need it now?”

“This club doesn’t open until 11 PM. It’s now or never,” you shook your head, annoyed at yourself for being so forgetful. “I’ll go grab it and meet you guys back at the apartment.”

“No way,” Bella argued, “you can’t go back alone! Let me go with you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you protested. It was already almost two in the morning, and you knew all of you had exams at eight. It was dark out and late, but you were only four blocks away. You’d sprint back and take that as a punishment for your forgetfulness. “Seriously! I’ll be fine. There are lots of people around here anyway. We all have an early exam, I don’t want to be the reason we flunk our senior year.”

Your friends seemed unsure, but you assured them you were 100% okay with going back alone. Perhaps you were a bit buzzed, but not too much you wouldn’t be able to find your way home. With that, your three friends sauntered back home as you turned around to go back to the club.

~~~

Getting back inside the club wasn’t hard since people were starting to trickle out. The upbeat pop music had transitioned into lo-fi beats by the DJ. Without so many people standing shoulder to shoulder on the floor, you were shocked to see how open and big the floor really was. You made a beeline for the bar and found the bartender you spoke with earlier in the night. She had bleach-blonde hair and a septum piercing.

“I saw you and your friends get outta here quick. Wanted to stop you but, y’know,” now that the music had faded, you could hear her thick New York accent. You smiled and shrugged your shoulders.

“I know, that’s why I rushed back. I didn’t want to short you!”

“If you hadn’t come back, we would’ve put an automatic 20% tip anyway,” she reasoned. Without asking, she poured you a glass of water.

Signing the receipt and slipping the card back into your wallet, you smiled at her.

“Well, here’s thirty percent.”

“Thanks, babe,” she graciously took the receipt. “Your friends outside? It’s pretty late for you to be alone.”

You waved a hand, dismissing her and finishing the water to help sober you up. “I’ll be fine. Only eight blocks away from home.”

“Sheesh. You say that like it’s two. Take this,” she slid you a tiny pink contraption, which you realized was a can of mace. You slid it into your purse quickly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Now get home safe,” she demanded.

“You too!”

Turning around from the bar, it was evident the club was closing up for the night. The normal lights came on, which brought about a whole new vibe to the place. Only a few partiers lingered, while the rest made their exit. You weren’t concerned at all walking home since you saw the crowds of people. And you weren’t being naive either, or so you convinced yourself. You’ve lived in New York for the past four years—you weren’t scared of it anymore.

Walking outside, it was unfortunate to see the crowds of people walking the opposite way you were going. Looking to your right, towards midtown, you could see the lights and large crowds of people huddling together, rushing to get home. To your left was a different story: darkness loomed ahead, and only two or three small groups were walking in the distance. The only light came from the dim orange street lamps that barely brought a glow. Bracing yourself, you took a deep breath and kept your finger on the mace the bartender had given you.

Okay, maybe it was a little spooky walking home alone. But you walked at a fast pace. You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep from shivering. You wished you’d brought a jacket.

As if a higher power had nudged something in your subconscious, you looked up from the sidewalk and saw three men loitering at a corner of a building. They had their backs against the brick wall, with their hands in their pockets, like they were waiting for something or someone. Knowing better, you crossed the street to avoid walking past them.

You heard one of them say something, but you couldn’t make out what it was. Your pace quickened, as did your heartbeat. Suddenly, it didn’t feel so cold anymore. The adrenaline you felt from walking away from them had sent your body into a panic. An unpleasant hot feeling spread across your chest, yet your arms still shivered from the cold. It was suddenly getting harder to breathe, as you walked against the wind.

“Hey!” One of them shouted. “It’s not lady-like to run away.”

The only way you could describe how you felt at this moment was like being trapped inside a dream—no, nightmare—where you felt like you were capable of breaking free of something, say a locked car, but things out of your control forced you to stay put. It was like trying to yell the word No! at someone but you couldn’t for the life of you find your voice. It was like wanting to hit back at someone in your dream, but your arm felt like it weighed 100 tons. It was like falling, as you did now, and not being able to get back up.

You took a harsh fall on the pavement, tripping over some uneven sidewalk. Your knees scratched the sidewalk harshly and immediately started burning from the sensation. You dropped your bag and turned to face your attackers, helpless.

“Oh, she’s already ready for us, with her legs spread in that little skirt,” another one of them growled. You tried to back up and stand up but a third was behind you, who lifted you from behind your shoulders and gripped you.

“Let me go!” You struggled against the man who reeked of rum and cigarettes. His cold leather jacket was on top of your bare skin—you felt like an animal being dissected. The more you struggled against him, the tighter he held on. He kicked your knees from behind, causing your legs to go weak so now you knelt in his grasp.

“Who’s first?�� One of them smiled a twisted smile. His hand held onto his crotch aggressively, getting himself ready.

“Let me fucking go! Help!” Your voice sounded hoarse, scared. These were the assholes you weren’t supposed to be afraid of—they weren’t supposed to win.

“Let her go.”

A fourth voice came from somewhere behind the two men who stood before you. For a moment, you thought it was one of their cronies who was acting selfishly and wanted you first, but from the looks of the men, you knew the voice didn’t belong to their kind. The two men in front of you parted, revealing a man dressed in all black, with a black mask covering half his face. He held two wooden sticks.

“Don’t make me say it again,” the man demanded in an oddly calm voice.

“Come and get her, asshole. You might have to wait. I don’t take too long,” the man who gripped you held on even tighter. You yelped in his grasp and tried to kick out of his hold on you.

The man in the mask acted quickly. Before you knew it, one of the wooden sticks in his hands was thrown at the man to your left, who fell, holding his face where the stick impacted him. The man in the mask seamlessly kicked the other guy on the right, who tried to lunge at him. He threw him to the ground like he was nothing more than a ball. The man who held you suddenly pulled something out of his pocket: a switchblade.

“Hey!” His grimy voice echoed in the air. The man in the mask turned his head menacingly, slowly. The man who held you placed the switchblade on your neck. You gasped as you tried to sink away from the sharp blade tickling your skin. “I ain’t care if she’s dead when I do it.”

The man in the mask punched the guy in front of him to stay down. The one behind was knocked out.

The man in the mask slowly turned around to face you and your captor. You tried to break free of his grasp again but failed. He pressed the front of the blade to your neck more harshly this time.

Before you could even react, the man in the mask lunged a wooden stick at the man’s face, hitting him square in the face. He dropped his switchblade in pain and you took this as your attempt to escape, this time succeeding. You stood by the side and quickly grabbed your purse on the ground. You watched as your savior, you thought you’d call him, punched the man in the face, repeatedly, until he fell down unconscious. Your savior grunted with each blow, making sure the man was knocked out.

Out of breath, your savior slowly stood up from kneeling on the man’s chest and turned in your direction. Your heart was beating uncontrollably now, completely shaken from your attempted attack. An attack that fell through, because the man in the masked saved you. You didn’t know what to say. You were shivering, but not from the cold.

“Are you okay?” He asked you as he took a step forward. You flinched unnaturally, only because you were still on edge. When he saw you flinch, he stopped in his footsteps immediately. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” you replied, wanting him to know you were grateful. “I’ll… I’ll be okay.” Nothing like that had ever happened to you. He gave you a nod and grabbed his wooden sticks on the ground, tucking them into his pockets. “Thank you… so much.”

He pressed his lips together in response.

“You shouldn’t be out this late alone, a young woman like you,” he had caught his breath by now and spoke softly.

“I’d argue men like that shouldn’t be able to walk out at night freely, so young women like me could feel safer,” you couldn’t help but say in response. You shivered in the cold and hugged your arms around your body. “But I guess that’s why you’re here. You know, I think I remember reading about you in the papers. Girls on my campus feel safer knowing you may be out there.” He hummed in response.

“Thank you,” you repeated yourself, unsure if he heard you the first time you said it. “I was really scared. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t show.”

“No need to thank me,” he waved his hand in response. “I…no need. Take care of yourself, okay?” He began to walk away, his black silhouette beginning to look like a shadow. You called after him in protest, before he could get any farther.

“Hey, wait!” You called. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look at you.

“You said it yourself it’s not safe for women like me to be out here alone,” you began, “will you walk me home?” Part of you wouldn’t admit it, but you were still too scared to walk alone.

He paused for a good thirty seconds you thought, like you knew he was really thinking about it. The best part about being a pre-law student was that in situations like this, you got to put your knowledge to the test. He did technically just testify he believes women like me shouldn’t be out here alone. If he really believed it, he’d follow through.

You could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smile on his face. But without seeing his eyes, and the night being as black as his mask, you really couldn’t tell.

He didn’t say anything back, but you took his turning around and walking toward you as a response that said yes.

~~~

Matt Murdock didn’t walk the people he saved home very often, but you brought up a valid point that he couldn’t really say no.

“Lead the way,” he spoke in a low voice as he walked to you. He could hear your heartbeat—it was still beating fast, without rhythm, meaning you were still scared.

Matt walked with you at first in silence. He used this time to put a picture in his head: why were you out so late? And alone?

He noticed the smell of liquor and sweat on your skin first. You mentioned a campus before, so he immediately knew you were in your early 20s. By the sound of your shoes—boots—hitting the pavement, you must’ve been dressed up for something. Or, dressed down, on second thought. Your legs and arms were shivering from the cold—you were in a skirt. And, a sleeveless top. Ahh, he thought in his head. I remember my days of college partying, too.

Still, he wondered where your friends were. Were you really out here alone?

And as if you’d read his mind, you spoke.

“You know, I wasn’t alone this entire night,” you explained. “I was with my friends earlier. We went to a club, just down the street. I forgot my card there and needed to go back.”

“Why didn’t any of them go with you?”

“I told them not to. We all have early exams in the morning. I didn’t want to keep anyone out later than they had to be.”

“And going to a club at midnight isn’t too late?” Matt couldn’t help but pry, lightheartedly, with a small smile.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you replied, “but it’s our senior year. You know, senioritis. We’re all over it. And we don’t want to pass up any opportunities to go out. Did you go to college?”

Matt didn’t respond. He kept walking with you.

“Ahh,” you said in realization, “forgot. Vigilantes are supposed to remain mysterious.”

Matt didn’t respond.

“You know, vigilantism is really backward? What you did for me—which I am eternally grateful for, by the way—is still illegal.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile in response. He nodded.

“I know. Hence the mask,” he replied.

“Of course. You cover your face so you don’t get caught acting outside the law. Even though it may be for the greater good,” you thought aloud.

“You… are you studying law?” Matt asked, despite himself.

“I am!” You replied excitedly, “How could you tell?”

He didn’t respond. You continued.

“When I graduate, I intend to take the LSAT, and immediately apply for Columbia Law.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, which you couldn’t see.

“Hey, as a vigilante, do you know any lawyers? I might need some letters of recommendation for that,” you chided. Matt chuckled softly.

“I—“

“Oh, right, forgot. Secrecy, and vigilantism. Mystery. How do you make any friends?” It was then Matt realized you may still have been a bit buzzed.

“I tend to keep people away when I’m dressed like this.”

“Hmm,” you replied.

Silence filled the space between you again. Matt could hear you slightly yawn. In your purse, he sensed a can of cheap mace. When you moved your arms, Matt caught a whiff of your fragrance. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but it was sweet. Like, marshmallows.

After another block, you slowed your speed, and Matt was content to know you weren’t scared anymore. Not scared in his presence, not scared at all. Your heartbeat had fallen to its normal rhythm. Your breathing was soft.

“This is it,” you announced, stopping in front of your apartment building.

Matt lingered in the shadows, against the wall of the building. He knew the security guard was at his desk inside. When you realized he was hiding, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re so dramatic,” you giggled. Matt didn’t find it funny, but he was amused at your entertainment.

“My savior,” you spoke softly, just for him to hear. “Thank you again. Perhaps I should get myself into more trouble.”

Matt shook his head, “I’m not a savior. And don’t get yourself into trouble. Study. And good luck with law school.”

“I said you are my savior. There is a difference,” you argued. Matt noticed you did that a lot—argued. He smiled—it’s something he doesn’t do very often when dressed like this.

“Be safe,” he pleaded.

“__,” you said your name. Matt was caught off guard by your introduction. “I don’t have to know your name, but you can know mine. My name is __.”

“Be safe, __,” he repeated.

“I will. And you do the same.”

With that, Matt heard you shuffle for your keycard. You entered your building. Matt waited on the side of the building for you to go up the elevator, to the 11th floor, swipe your card to your apartment and lock the door behind you. After that, he stopped listening. He knew you were safe. He exhaled sharply and slumped his shoulders against the brick building.

He wasn’t a savior.

He disappeared into the night.

#matt murdock #BEEN A WHILE SINCE I WROTE FOR MATTY BOY #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fan fiction #matt murdock/reader #daredevil #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #daredevil x reader #blind faith #charlie cox fan fiction #matt murdock fic

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